A Tale of Love
by Camellia658
Summary: It's after Satine's death and Christian is about to be driven over the edge...please R/R, Chapter Two is finally up!
1. Default Chapter

A Tale of Love

I, unfortunately, do not own any of the wonderful Moulin Rouge characters, and I hope I do and adequate job of portraying each character to their fullest potentials. Thanks you, and I hope the flames don't fly too hot :)

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Christian sat, head in hands, after he had finished putting together the tale of his gem, his one true love, his beautiful Satine. His morbid, depressing thoughts mixed together with the still strong feelings of love he felt for Satine. His concentration was broken when he heard a knock on his door. Christian glared at the door, as if the person would go away if he stared hard enough at the door. No, nothing in the world was that easy. Eventually, the knocking would go away. It always did. It was Toulouse, the only one of his friends who had stayed with him. Satie, the Argentinean, and everyone had left him alone when they found the new Christian. The new, loveless, depressed Christian. Toulouse had stayed by his side, bringing him food every day, encouraging him to get a job, encouraging him to go out again. He never mentioned Satine. It seemed that Satine had disappeared from everyone's memory. Christian was snapped back to his small, dirty flat when he heard the knocking still going on. Christian threw an empty bottle at the door, but still the knocking continued.

In rage, Christian flew to the door, and pulled it open. There stood a telegram boy, looking around nervously at the filthy and seedy building. "What do you want?" Christian surprised himself when he heard his voice. It was rasp and hoarse, nothing like his old, vibrant voice. 

"Le monsieur, j'ai un télégramme pour vous." the boy stuttered nervously holding out the paper. Christian did not understand what the boy said, but he took the paper and slammed the door in the boy's face. He pulled the paper open and read, his face turning into a fresh sheet of grief. He dropped the paper and feel to the ground, tired of life. Tired of being a failure. Tired of being only known as the one who loved a whore. 

Christian dragged himself to his tiny kitchenette, and pulled out a knife. Preparing to thrust it into himself, he was startled by Toulouse bursting into his flat. 

"Cwistian! How are-" Toulouse stopped short when he say Christian lying on the floor with a knife clutched in his hand. 

"Cwistian...no...don't..." Toulouse started to say. Then he noticed the paper on the floor and picked it up to read it. 

"Oh, Cwistian, I am so sowwy. I know that you and youw father wewe not cwose, but it still must be hard..." Toulouse trailed off when he noticed that Christian wasn't listening. 

"Toulouse.." Christian whispered. "I have not seen my father for almost three years. Now he's dead. My memories have nothing but filth in them. I am filth. I am a failure. I failed everyone. My father was right. I am wasting my life away in remembrance of a woman who I could not have...I have no reason to live." Christian raised the knife. Toulouse leapt forward, with a sudden burst of energy. He grabbed the knife and pulled Christian to his feet. 

"Come on. We have got a fuwneral to attend, and you are not a failuwe. Everyone that meets you woves you. Now come on..." Toulouse dragged Christian out of the apartment, on their way to a home that Christian had not been welcome in for three years.

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That was Chapter One. If ya'll like it, then tell me, and Chapter Two will be ready soon! If not, then well, I'll make Chapter Two anyway. Please tell me what I need to fix instead of just saying "This sucks" or "You are a sicko." Thanks! 


	2. Chapter Two

It was a gray, dreary London day when Toulouse and Christian stepped off the train. "Cwistian, I do not know how you survived 22 years in this dweadful city! It's so cowd and wifewess!" Toulouse exclaimed loudly. Many people stopped to look at the little man yelling so loudly. 

"Toulouse, just shut up, okay? You are such an embarrassment." Christian snapped. Before Satine's death, he would have felt horrible for saying such a thing. Now, his emotions were gone. His love was dead. Toulouse looked startled, and then his look changed to sorrow, and he looked away. 

"This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come with you. You should have had to face all your pwobwems by yoursewf. Cwistian, Satine isn't coming back. She's dead. I know you woved her, bu-" Toulouse started in on Christian, when all of a sudden Christian burst out.

"I did not love her. I have never loved anyone. Satine was right. Love is just a game. There is no such thing as love. If love was true, then Satine would have left with me long ago. Zidler would have let her go. But no. Satine didn't love me. Zidler didn't love Satine. Nobody loves anyone, love is about money. Satine loved me for sex and for writing her stupid fucking play. Zidler loved the money Satine brought in. The Duke "loved" Satine for the power it gave him and the envy he would get from his rivals. He was too much of a rat prick to get his own woman, so he had to use money. There is no such think as love, Toulouse!" Christian yelled. Toulouse hung his head. Christian felt the first pangs of regret he had felt since Satine's death. They were quickly brushed away by a feeling of intense sadness. 

"Cwistian, you are wight. Except.....Satine woved you. She told me so. She woved you more then anything. More then wife itself! She woved you more then money....more then Marie...she woved you," Toulouse said in a firm tone. 

Christian shook his head in disbelief. "Toulouse, drop it, okay? God damn, do you think I'm an idiot? I know that you just want me to go back to Montmarte to waste my life writing about the stupid shit that you call your little Bohemian beliefs. There is no such thing as freedom. Satine wasn't free to go her own way, she had to stay in Montmarte as a whore, not free to chase her dreams, and fly away. Nor beauty, nothing is beautiful without Satine. No truth, because Satine lied to me. I BELIEVED her when she said she didn't love me! I wasted almost the whole last day of Satine's LIFE because she LIED to me. And love? Love is what started the end of my life. When Satine died, she took my heart. She took my soul. She ended my life. My father was right. Satine's body is wasting away in a grave somewhere...the grave of a whore. The grave of someone who will never be remembered by anybody. And I am wasting away with her. I am wasting my life at the Moulin Rouge....wasting away with my "love"," Christian said loudly. Toulouse was shaking with anger. 

"Cwistian, are you hearing me? What is the matter with you? None of what you said is twue! Especiawwy the part about Satine not being wemembered. She is known by many...many wonderful peopwe who woved her, or just wanted her. Wike Zidwer. Zidwer was so distwaught that he weft. He went to Itawy with Mawie. Mawie wote me a wetter shortwy afterward. Zidwer killed himsewf. Hung himsewf. I then heawd that Mawie died. The doctow thought that it was heawt pwobwems.....and it was. She was heartsick, and died of a bwoken heart!" Toulouse said furiously. Christian scoffed. 

"Its not possible to die of love, Toulouse. As I said, love isn't real. Love is money. Love is just not there," Christian said in an agitated voice. Toulouse sighed. 

"Cwistian, wet's just go, allwight? This isn't working," Toulouse said softly. 

"It doesn't start for another 4 hours, Toulouse. I don't want to spend anymore time then I have to around my family," Christian said. 

"Aww wight. How about a dwink then?" Toulouse asked, eyeing a nearby bar called McBee's. As they went into the bar, Christian saw someone who he thought he would never see again....


End file.
